Polserra
by Laterose
Summary: Belgarath, Polgara and family return to Riva for a happy little reunion to find all is not at all well. The King is sick, ensnared in a draining illness that even Polgara cannot fathom and the new generation comes into play, with dangerous results...
1. Polserra, Xera, Xaria, Geran

**My first David Eddings fic! Be nice!  
  
Laterose. **  
His mind is in turmoil. A name? No name.  
  
There are faces, faces he thinks he should remember.  
  
A beautiful woman with dark hair, all except for one white lock at her brow. She smiles at him, and then frowns.  
  
An old man with a white beard.  
  
A blond haired lad with a kindly face, who radiates power.  
  
The lovely, worried face of a tiny red headed woman.  
  
A young man who smiles at him with eyes like his own.  
  
Lots of red headed little girls. Lots.  
  
One black haired child, her eyes like flints and her laugh like ice.  
  
He doesn't know where he is, who he is, and he can't remember his story.  
  
The rest of the world can, and it waits.  
  
~  
  
The ship was nearing the Isle of the Winds. Belgarath the Sorcerer leant out over the deck railing.  
  
The wind blew his mantle every which way, and he scowled. Poledra had insisted he wear it on their arrival in Riva. And when Poledra insisted, you seldom argued - even if you were Belgarath, the figure of legend. Especially if you were him.  
  
He was positive he hadn't really needed to come, but Polgara had rather deviously persuaded Poledra to come along, and that automatically included him.  
  
It wasn't before he'd finished packing that he'd realised that his daughter had done it on purpose.  
  
He'd moaned a little, but he was rather looking forward to it now. He hadn't seen Garion and Ce'Nedra for about ten years, after all, and he hadn't even met their three youngest children. This, however, was perhaps an downside. The presence of so many little red haired girls made him feel old, for some reason.  
  
"Something's wrong," came a voice from behind him.  
  
"So you keep saying," he growled back. Polgara came and stood beside him, her hands only slightly resting on the bar, her hair streaming behind her in the wind.  
  
"You could at least act the least bit worried," she said.  
  
"I am worried," Belgarath told his daughter. "I just don't show it as much as you do."  
  
"He's blocking me out," said Polgara. "What is he up to?"  
  
"Maybe he just wants to be left alone, Pol."  
  
"I don't think he knows he's doing it, father."  
  
As they drew closer, they could see that every window in the palace was covered in black drapes. "What is going on?" said Poledra, Belgarath's wife, coming out on deck with a black haired young lady of seventeen years in tow.  
  
Polgara's daughter looked up at the Citadel. "It look's like someone's -" the black haired girl gasped. "What if it's one of the children?"  
  
"We'd have heard if someone had died, Belgera," said Polgara firmly, but she sounded as though she was trying to convince herself.  
  
Others came out onto the deck. Durnik lurched as a great wave rocked the boat. Belstad supported his father as the ship moved swiftly into the cove.  
  
"Thank you, son," said Durnik, but Belstad was hardly listening. He went to stand beside his sister, Belgera.  
  
"What's with all the black curtains?" he asked her.  
  
"I don't know," she told him. "But it makes me feel ill just to look at them. You do think everyone is all right, don't you?"  
  
"I hope so," said Belstad.  
  
"Look!" exclaimed Belgera.  
  
There were three children playing on the docks, but no adults, which was strange because by this time Garion would usually have come out to greet them. But anyone could see that the black curtains that covered all the windows would prevent all the usual watchmen from seeing anything happening down at the cove.  
  
Of the three children, two girls were red headed and lively. These were the ones that were doing all the screaming and running about.  
  
The other had long straight black locks and was sitting still on a rock, watching the other two. She was older than the red heads and was following their every move.  
  
She looked up at the huge ship as it made a beeline for an empty space at the dock. So did the younger two, their play clothes whipping round them in the wind. The three of them stared; mouths open, as all the passengers disembarked.  
  
The black haired one spoke first, to Durnik. She looked up at him, quite boldly.  
  
"Aren't you awfully tall?" she said.  
  
Durnik smiled at her. The two younger children smiled back, but the black haired one just looked wary.  
  
"What's your name?" Durnik asked her.  
  
"I am Princess Polserra," she said, drawing herself up to her full height. "I'm eight. This is Xera and Xaria, my little sisters. They're twins," she added, "but they're only five."  
  
She turned to Polgara. "You're pretty," she told her.  
  
"This one is after my own heart," said Polgara with a worried smile.  
  
"Pol!" said Xera, or it could have been Xaria, "Pol, you're very naughty! You're not to talk to strangers!"  
  
"They don't seem strange to me," said the little girl.  
  
"I'm telling, I'm telling!" said the other twin.  
  
Poledra ruffled her hair. "These are Ce'Nedra's children all right."  
  
"You know mother?" asked Polserra. "That must be all right, then."  
  
"Polserra," said Belgarath, bending down slightly to be on her level, "Why are all the windows in the city blacked up?"  
  
The child cocked her head on one side. "I'm not sure if I ought to tell you," she said finally. "Geran said not to tell anyone, even the baker at the end of the street, and he gets told everything that happens in Riva."  
  
"Geran?" said Belstad in surprise.  
  
"My brother," Polserra said by way of explanation. "He's on his way down here now."  
  
"Oh?" said Belgera incredulously. "How do you know that?"  
  
"I just told him to," said Polserra with a very large grin.  
  
Belgarath and Polgara exchanged startled glances, but before they could say anything, Prince Geran of Riva came running out of the citadel and onto the dock, followed closely by Kail, the Rivan Warder, and a young man of about Belstad's age.  
  
Geran had grown considerably in the last ten or so years. He was now as tall as his father, at least, at twenty years old, and his once sandy blonde curls had darkened to rich black.  
  
He had the air of a King about him, but he looked tired and worried, and as if he had not had much sleep lately.  
  
Kail looked almost the same as ever, except that there were noticeably more lines on his face, and his normally dark hair carried wisps of grey. He was also looking worried, but he was doing his best to conceal it.  
  
The other man was very short and wiry, and although younger than Geran, looked as though he'd seen the world inside out and could fight himself out of any number of tricky situations.  
  
Although it was not that cold, he wore the neck of his silk tunic high at the back of his neck, and he had at least two daggers tucked into his belt. He was quite blatantly Drasnian.  
  
"Aunt Pol!" called Geran, in obvious delight. "Grandmother! What took you so long?"  
  
"I didn't know there was a time limit," said Polgara, dubiously. "I didn't know you knew we were coming, Geran."  
  
"What? But then. oh never mind. Come in, quickly, all of you. That includes you three," he said shortly to the three little girls  
  
"Oh," moaned one of the twins.  
  
"Do we have to?" whined the other one.  
  
"Yes, you do," said Geran, in a voice so reminiscent of his mother that everyone smiled. "And you, Pol."  
  
"I don't have to do anything you tell me to," said Polserra, glaring at him.  
  
"The doors close in ten minutes, Pol."  
  
"I don't care. I'm going to stay here all night, so there."  
  
"Pol - "  
  
The little girl whipped round and glared at him with eyes like fire. Geran made a move that was half a stumble, half a flick of his hand.  
  
Everyone present who had 'talent' which was everyone except Kail, the Dryad twins and possibly the little Drasnian, felt or heard the surge of Geran's will, but no one else's.  
  
Belstad looked with trepidation at Geran's shield. What was he guarding against?  
  
There was a momentary struggle between the Prince and some unseen force, and then the shield went down.  
  
Polserra stamped her foot. "I hate you, Geran!" she announced in a voice as loud as Ce'Nedra's. Then she stomped off up to the citadel. The twins remained behind.  
  
Geran brushed off his hands. "That was easier than expected," he observed.  
  
"What was?" asked Belgarath in confusion. "There was nothing there, Geran."  
  
Geran paused for a moment, then he put his fingers to his lips and beckoned.  
  
They followed him into the Citadel, curiosity clouding their senses.  
  
When they were in, Geran shut the gate.  
  
"That was sloppy, Geran," the Drasnian lad accused the Prince.  
  
"Don't tell me there weren't at least three spies out there who know the secret language," the Prince retorted, leading the way past the bewildered guards and up the stairs.  
  
"Four," the other corrected him.  
  
Belgarath chuckled. "Works every time," he remarked.  
  
Polgara glared at him. "Geran," she demanded. "What is going on?"  
  
Geran sighed. "I'm afraid it's father," he said quietly. "He's dreadfully ill."  
** There you go. Hope you liked my little start to a little ficcy. ** 


	2. Churrok, Ce'Vanne

**Is it only three weeks? Seems much longer than that. In answer to your question, Polgara should know about Garion's illness, but the nature of the illness prevents her from knowing. **  
  
The reactions were mixed. Belgarath and Durnik looked at each other quickly, Belgera gasped and clung to her brother, who held her tightly.  
  
Poledra and Polgara exchanged glances, and then took on a look of feigned calm Belstad saw through in a second. The twins' lips wobbled, Kail and the Drasnian lad remained steady. They obviously already knew the news.  
  
"What's wrong with him?" Belgarath asked.  
  
Geran shrugged, blinking a little too fast. "I haven't seen him for a while. He's very forgetful, he's got a raging fever and he's too weak to stand. We've been trying to contact you for ages, but nothing worked, so we sent a normal messenger instead. We expected you the day after tomorrow if nothing went wrong. I take it you didn't see him?"  
  
"Not that we know of," said Poledra. "I suppose we must have mislaid each other somewhere along the way."  
  
The Drasnian lad chuckled. "I doubt it, rather," he said. "He's not known to mislay people. But we'll know soon, I suppose."  
  
"Take us to Garion, then," said Polgara. "I'll have a look at him. It's probably just a bad case of flu from not staying out in the rain."  
  
"That's what Mother said at first, Aunt Pol," said Geran, not meeting anyone's eyes. "We had physicians in. I know a fair bit of healing myself," he flicked his hand to indicate magic, "and I had a go, but nothing works. It's not a normal illness. I've seen inside him," he shuddered. "There's something black in there."  
  
Polgara sped up, just a little noticeably. Belgarath took her arm. "Calm down," he said. "Panicking gets us nowhere."  
  
Polgara glared and pulled her arm away, but Durnik whispered reassuring words to her, and she resumed the pace of the group as Geran led the way up the stairs to the Royal bedchambers.  
  
Belstad kept his eye on the Drasnian all the way. He seemed ordinary enough. He wore a black silk doublet and hose, indicating wealth, though not as much as the complex embroidery which decorated them.  
  
There were two snakes, one curling around each sleeve. One, a bright acid green, had black eyes twinkling on one wrist that looked like they may have been opals, and the other, a darker green with red-brown triangles down it's back, winked ruby eyes at him from the opposite shoulder.  
  
He walked erect and proud, and could have been any noble, but for the fact that slight bulges in his soft boots indicated knives. He was quite handsome, and seemed somehow familiar to the young sorcerer. As though he had known him as a child.  
  
Belstad looked up when Durnik stopped talking, and saw Geran indicate for silence.  
  
A man was approaching. He was wearing a clean, dark green robe and there were no signs of scars on his face, but he had the air of a Murgo about him. One who rarely washed, at any rate.  
  
"Good evening, Your Majesty," he said as he passed.  
  
All present noticed the change of address. "What do you mean?" Geran snapped, suddenly becoming a different person. Cold and regal.  
  
"Well," the man said, a little unsure of himself. "I assumed - "  
  
"You assume too much," Geran told him. "Get out of my sight and never address me in that way again. The King lives on."  
  
The Murgo scuttled away. Geran breathed heavily, his cheeks tinted red.  
  
"Who's that?" Belgera asked quietly.  
  
"Churrok," said Geran. "Murgo ambassador. I don't like him and he doesn't like me. Not many people do. Some people reckon Father only let him on the island as a special favour to King Urgit."  
  
"But he doesn't ask favours often," said the Drasnian lad quickly.  
  
"You would say that," Geran growled as he commenced walking.  
  
"I like him, rather," said the other.  
  
They had reached the door to Garion and Ce'Nedra's rooms.  
  
Two guards in grey Rivan cloaks stood guarding it. They stood smartly and saluted when the Prince approached.  
  
"Let me in, Karon," Geran said.  
  
"Are you sure, your Highness?" said one.  
  
"Quite sure."  
  
"Rather you than me," said the other.  
  
The Prince knocked softly.  
  
"Who is it?" said a voice on the other side. A young, feminine voice. Belgera became alert at once.  
  
"It's Geran."  
  
"What do you want? It's at least two hours till supper and it's hectic in here."  
  
"I've brought - "  
  
"If you're looking for excitement, you can think again. It's so boring in here I think I'll burst. He only comes out of it about once an hour, and then only for five minutes. I left my book behind today, and Mother won't let me fetch it. The only one's in here are Grandfather's and nearly half of Aunt Pol's, and I've read them so many times - "  
  
"Ce'Vanne," Geran said sternly. "Aunt Pol's here."  
  
The door literally flew open. The girl in the doorway emitted a little squeak and hugged Polgara around the middle. Ten years didn't seem to make all that much difference to the fifteen-year old.  
  
"Like a password," said Belgarath, obviously also hoping for a hug.  
  
"Oh, you," said Ce'Vanne, and tugged his beard. She squeaked again when she saw Poledra, Durnik, Belgera and Belstad, and hugged them all in turn.  
  
Where she had been sitting in the doorway was a chair, and on top was a very familiar looking book. Despite what she'd said, the bookworm had obviously been reading Polgara's book anyway.  
  
**Can you tell I'm delaying the inevitable?  
  
Love Laterose.** 


	3. X'Arell, X'Adara, Dhelbir

**Gees, some people have no patience.**  
  
There were two other girls in the sitting room. They looked very much like Ce'Vanne, but more like each other, and were obviously twins.  
  
These then, must be X'Arell and X'Adara, Ce'Nedra's third and fourth daughters.  
  
Belstad remembered the last time he had seen them, he'd only been six years old and the twins had been little more than babies. That meant now they would be. eleven. Yes. Just eleven.  
  
They both stood, staring at the company who marched into the room purposefully, with Ce'Vanne skipping along beside Belgera. The young Drasnian closed the door.  
  
"What's going on in there?" called a woman's voice softly from the other room. "Ce'Nedra's asleep." The door opened, and the Drasnian ducked behind Geran.  
  
"Liselle!" said Polgara. "Finally someone with a bit of sense."  
  
Geran, apparently, was too worried to stand up to this remark.  
  
"Polgara?" said the blonde woman who had emerged. She ran forward and embraced Belstad's mother. "Oh. you're all here!" she said. "Thank the Gods!"  
  
"Thank Polgara, actually," said Durnik proudly. "It was her idea."  
  
"What?" said Liselle, surprised. "But. Kheldar went to fetch you. didn't he reach you?"  
  
Everyone turned to look at Geran. "That's your 'normal messenger', is it?" asked Belgarath with a growl.  
  
"Best one we've got at the moment," Geran retorted. "He was a little miffed to have to work when he's meant to be on holiday."  
  
"I'm not surprised," Belgarath muttered.  
  
"But he's worried about father too," Geran finished.  
  
"Everyone is," said Liselle. Her eyes narrowed. "Don't think I can't see you there, young man."  
  
With a sigh, the Drasnian lad who had followed them from the dock came out from behind Geran.  
  
"What are you doing here?" Liselle demanded, as people's eyes flicked from one to the other.  
  
"Nothing," the young man said innocently.  
  
Liselle threw her arms up in the air in a manner so familiar that Belstad snorted, and got glared at by his mother.  
  
"You aren't supposed to leave the rooms!"  
  
"I'm not supposed to, but I do anyway," retorted the Drasnian lad, perhaps a little louder than he'd meant to. "I don't care how many people are out to kill me, mother, I'm not staying locked up like a prisoner."  
  
"Dhelbir, I don't care what you want, it's for your own protection!" screamed Liselle at her son.  
  
"What's going on?" said a sleepy voice from the door from which Liselle had emerged. A red head which was more bushy than curly after her nap, poked around the corner of the door.  
  
"Aunt Pol?"  
  
"Hello, Ce'Nedra," said Polgara, her shoulders relaxing as she saw her nephew's wife.  
  
"Your Majesty," said Dhelbir, and bowed low, before turning. "Mother," he said coldly, and left, the door swinging behind him.  
  
"And don't move!" Liselle called after him.  
  
There was no answer.  
  
After a moment's indecision, she said "Just a moment," and went after him.  
  
"Aunt Pol!" Ce'Nedra cried, threw herself into Polgara's waiting arms, and burst into tears.  
  
"Hush," said Polgara. "Hysterics never helped anyone. Close the door, Belstad."  
  
He obeyed.  
  
One of the twins came forward. "Mummy," she said. "Please don't cry. It scares me."  
  
Polgara let go of Ce'Nedra, who turned to her daughter. "Oh my darling," she sobbed. "I'm so sorry."  
  
X'Arell and X'Adara ran forward into her arms, where they too began to cry.  
  
Belgarath sighed. "I suppose we'd better get comfortable," he said. "This could take a while."  
  
Poledra gave him a withering look. "How are you, dear?" she asked Ce'Vanne, who was watching her mother and younger sisters worriedly.  
  
"I'm fine," she said in a shaky voice. "I'm glad you're here."  
  
"So that was Dhelbir, was it?" Belgarath asked her.  
  
"Yes," she said, surprised. "Didn't you know?"  
  
Belgarath turned to Geran, who looked down at him in familiar looking innocence.  
  
"Didn't you?" he asked.  
  
"You look just like your father when you do that, did you know?" said Belgarath.  
  
The Queen looked up.  
  
"What is actually wrong with him, Ce'Nedra?" asked Polgara softly, helping her to a chair by the fire.  
  
Tears were still rolling down Ce'Nedra's cheeks as she hugged herself around the shoulders.  
  
"It's awful, Aunt Pol," she sobbed as the others also settled themselves in chairs and the twins sat on the carpet. "It's just. awful. Sometimes he doesn't even remember his own name, and he keeps screaming."  
  
"What does he say?" Poledra asked.  
  
"I don't understand," said Ce'Nedra.  
  
Belstad understood why Geran was looking so serious and Ce'Vanne, X'Arell and X'Adara were looking so scared.  
  
From the little he remembered of the little Queen, and what he had read in the copies of his mother's and Grandfather's books, Ce'Nedra was usually strong and straightforward.  
  
To have her worried and frightened like this was as if the world was falling to pieces.  
  
"Sometimes it's names," she went on. "My name, the children, Aunt Pol, Grandfather, Barak, even Silk sometimes. Other times."  
  
"Yes?" asked Poledra.  
  
"Shrieks," Ce'Vanne said, shivering. "Just. screams. Like he's in pain."  
  
Liselle came back in. "That's sorted." She said. "Ce'Nedra. are you all right?"  
  
The Queen nodded through her tears. Liselle went over and hugged her.  
  
"But look at me," said Ce'Nedra. "Concerned only with my own troubles and not a word to the lovely children."  
  
She straightened up, and went to Belgera, commenting on how much she had grown in the space of ten years.  
  
Polgara's daughter smiled, and listened to her cousin by marriage patiently.  
  
Belstad tried to fade into the shadows, but Ce'Nedra caught him. Before he too was embraced by the tiny young woman, he caught his mother's eye as she smiled.  
  
This was more like the Ce'Nedra they knew.  
  
"Ah," said Ce'Nedra, stepping back. "But you're not a child anymore, are you Belstad? A strapping young man now, just like my sulking one over there."  
  
Geran, who had been leaning with one foot against the wall and his arms crossed, stood up quickly.  
  
"Don't think I can't see you Geran," Ce'Nedra teased, trying to act normally. "I bet Belstad here doesn't even think of getting mucky shoe marks on the walls, do you?"  
  
"He's made plenty of them in his time, Ce'Nedra," said Durnik. "Stop flirting with my son."  
  
Ce'Nedra turned on him, much to Belstad's relief. "Oh, dear Durnik!" She hugged him, and then drew back. "I'm so sorry about this. It's the first time I've seen all of you in, what? Ten years? And the first thing I do is get your cloak wet, Aunt Pol."  
  
"That's quite all right dear," said Polgara.  
  
This, Belstad thought, showed more than anything else how worried his mother was. Normally, when someone cried, she'd say, "Careful, you'll dry yourself up," or "crying will not cause a flood, but it certainly doesn't do anyone any good" or something like that.  
  
"As for you, Liselle." said Polgara.  
  
The petite blonde sighed. "I know, I know."  
  
"He's a fine son you've got there," said Durnik. "Why do you want to lock him up? Did he say something about."  
  
"Yes," said Liselle. "He's been in the academy since months after you last saw him, when he was two. When the masters weren't watching him, Kheldar and I were. Kheldar even started teaching!"  
  
"What?" exclaimed Belgarath.  
  
"I know. I don't think at the time Dhelbir realised what we were doing, but he's a clever lad, just like his father, though I'm loathe to admit it."  
  
Belgera giggled.  
  
"He told us to leave him alone but we weren't having any. That was when he was about seven."  
  
"Very smart," said Durnik.  
  
"Yes. He got used to it in the end. He was proud, I know, of having a famous father and being related to the head of Drasnian Intelligence before Javelin stepped down. But Kheldar is one of the richest men in the world, and there are quite a few people out for that money. Kheldar would do anything for Dhelbir. I know he hasn't been attached to many things in his life but now he has a weak spot. Of course he does his best not to make it known - and I think Dhelbir understands that, too. But all along I think he suspected we'd stop trying to protect him once he left the academy."  
  
"But you didn't?" said Poledra, shaking her head.  
  
Sensing her disapproval, Liselle said. "We would have done. We both started getting restless - I missed my saddle and Kheldar isn't exactly comfortable being cooped up for long, especially in Drasnia - "  
  
"You missed your saddle?" Belgarath enquired with a smile.  
  
Liselle smiled back at him. "Hard as it is to believe, yes. I missed the adventure too, of course, and the thrill of the chase. So we started going away for periods of time, separately at first. I came here for a couple of weeks, usually, or to Sthiss Tor. Kheldar came to visit you, I know, or he went to Cthol Murgos to see Urgit."  
  
Ce'Nedra sat down again and hugged her children to her, apparently knowing what came next.  
  
"It happened when Kheldar and I finally decided to do a trip together. We hadn't been spending all that much time with each other lately and we decided it was time to renew our relationship a little."  
  
Polgara nodded, approvingly.  
  
"We did a sweeping circle, passing through Jarviksholm and getting a ship to the Isle of the Winds. Garion gave us a stunning welcome and we'd been here for a couple of weeks - I'd been catching up on Ce'Nedra's news and exchanging children horror stories."  
  
"Thanks," said Geran and Ce'Vanne at the same time. Ce'Vanne made a face at her brother, who grinned back at her and rested his foot back against the wall.  
  
"Kheldar and Garion had been catching up on each other's fighting techniques. Honestly, men do such strange things at reunions, I'll never - "  
  
"Just get to the point, Liselle," said Belgarath, gruffly. Belstad felt his grandfather's worry, and thought he could guess what came next. 


End file.
